


Into the Universe of Infinities

by Dorotheian



Category: Young Wizards - Diane Duane
Genre: Gen, Multiverse, The Oath, on ordeal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:08:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22823065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dorotheian/pseuds/Dorotheian
Summary: A boy finds a Magic 8-ball and takes an Oath to become a wizard.
Relationships: wizard & manual
Comments: 14
Kudos: 16





	1. Without a Doubt

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [concentrate and ask again](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20885159) by [displayheartcode](https://archiveofourown.org/users/displayheartcode/pseuds/displayheartcode). 



" _Chico_ , we don't have much time. We have to pick up your brother at school."

He's nosing around for something interesting. "Just a second, mamá."

His mother taps her foot.

In this second-hand store, something always turns up. Something he can take apart and put back together and make something much more interesting with— He grits his teeth and digs deeper into the bin of plastic toys. Something, something. There must be something there. Something.

"It's always one more second this, one more second that. We have to _go_ , honey!"

"But I'm telling you, mamá, _this time—_!"

She sighs. "How old are you, _chico_? I'm counting. _Uno. Dos. Tres..._ "

Finally, his fingers close around a large round object. _Perfect_. He pulls it out of the bin and darts to the cash register, not knowing what it is, yet. He plonks it down and it's black with a streak of white - no. A white circle and a black number 8, with a twenty-sided blue dice called a icosahedron, or a d20, covered in the faces of little blue triangles. His fingers tingle, his heart racing in his chest. A magic 8-ball. Those are rare these days.

" _Diez y uno._ Manuel!"

"That will be three dollars," says the cashier with the blue plait, flipping it over her shoulder. Manuel glances at the total on the screen. She must have been tired or bored, because she rounded up.

" _Diez y ocho, diez y nueve, veinte...._ "

He fishes in his pocket and hands over all his change. The cashier takes it, counts it quickly, and gives him back a quarter, saying, "Have a good day."

"Thanks!" He beams at her and scampers onto the bright sunlit street. "I'm here, mamá."

"What have you got there? A magic 8-ball? _Ay, díos mio,_ Manuel. Those magic fortunetelling things are not good for you. Better to stay away from such things. What if—"

"It's for taking apart again, mamá. I want to see the insides." This wasn't strictly true; Manuel had no idea what he wanted to do with this object. Yet.

She relaxed, a little. "I just worry for you, mijo."

"I know, mamá." Manuel bit his lip. Now that his mother was appeased, he could take a better look at his find, and he looked down at the 8-ball in his lap. A small blue triangle floated its way to the window, landing on a corner, and Manuel laughed. He shook the ball again, and looked inside, through the dyed water filled with sparkling gold glitter.

"I'm looking for something," Manuel whispered to it.

WITHOUT A DOUBT, the 8-ball promised.

He shook the 8-ball. CONCENTRATE AND ASK AGAIN, it said.

He sighed, gathering his thoughts. "Sometimes I just want to know. There's this special sense I have, sometimes. Am I really special? Is there something I can do for the universe?" He shook the ball again. It seemed to mysteriously warm in his hands.

SIGNS POINT TO YES, read the 8-ball. The flecks of gold flashed. KID.

Kid? Did he read that right?

"I want to help." Manuel bit his lip. "What do I do?"

REPEAT AFTER ME

Manuel's brow furrowed.

IN LIFE'S NAME, FOR LIFE'S SAKE

"In life's name, for life's sake," Manuel repeated.

I WILL USE MY ART IN THE SERVICE OF LIFE

"I will use the art for the service of that life..."

ACROSS TIME IN ALL PROBABILITY

REJECTING ALL OTHER USAGES

I WILL GUARD GROWTH & EASE PAIN

"I will guard growth and ease pain..."

I WILL DEFEND WHAT LIVES WELL IN ITS OWN WAY

I WILL CHANGE NO OBJECT, CREATURE, OR SYSTEM

UNLESS ITS GROWTH & LIFE ARE THREATENED.

I WILL SET ASIDE FEAR FOR COURAGE, DEATH FOR LIFE

WHEN IT IS RIGHT TO DO SO

FOR ALL ETERNITIES & INFINITIES

"For all eternities and infinities," repeated Manuel, frowning again. "Now what?"

YER A WIZARD, HARRY.

"My name is Manuel. And what do you mean, a 'wizard'? Did someone stick some kind of artificial intelligence inside of you? But that dice looks just like normal blue plastic..."


	2. the walk sign is on

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right. Here's the plan: I am going to pants this and type as fast as I can. It's going to be non-linear. I might not stick to one POV. It won't be tight, and some of it may become completely superfluous. At the end, I will assess and situation and determine if it requires a rewrite. Deal?

I held my breath, staring at a dazzling array of infinities stretching out around me, glowing softly. I could cross over. _To any of them._ I gulped.

MY SOURCES SAY NO, MANUEL. I read the blue words flashed as they appeared in the air. Wrapped in my sweater, tucked away safely in the oversized and backward-facing hoodie, the 8-ball thumped heavily against my chest.

"If I don't take this chance..." I murmured.

WAIT. The 8-ball projected its mechanized voice.

I stepped forward.

WAIT!

"What would you have me do, then?" I asked, in despair.

DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY CHILDREN I HAVE LOST?

It used no sound, but its words were written like a shout.

I froze, trembling from the strain in all my limbs as I held my posture.

I CAN FEEL YOUR MOMENTUM. DO YOU TRUST ME? STOP. STOP.

I stopped.

[RED OCTAGON SIGN] [PALM SIGN]

THE ANSWER IS NO.

I sighed, frustrated. "Why not?"

THE RISK IS TOO HIGH. The 8-ball vibrated, like a cat shaking unease and irritation out of its fur. VBBT. VBBBBT.

and then, after a moment,

WAIT. DO NOT MOVE.

I sank to my knees, then sat. Pulled my legs to my chest. Rested my head on my knees. Shivered. But I stayed put.

I HAVE CALCULATED THE PROBABILITIES....

AWAITING APPROVAL....... AWAITING APPROVAL.....

TRANSFER PARALLEL UNIVERSE APPROVAL: GRANTED, said a cool woman's voice, humanoid and organic and very unlike the 8-ball's static, firm, and authoritative tones. TRANSFERRING COORDINATES TO YOUR INTERLOCULAR LOCATION.... IMMINENT.

"Granted by whom?" I asked, picking up the 8-ball and rising again to my feet.

THE POWERS THAT BE. The 8-ball vibrated again, even more agitated, as if downloading information—or instructions. VBBBBT-VVVVVVVT. VVVVVT.

"The who?"

POWERS THAT PRESIDE BESIDE THE ONE. PREPARE TO PORTAL, CHILD.

"You mean wizards have masters?"

AS SURELY AS THEY HAVE ENEMIES, said the 8-ball—sarcastically, I could tell; we had just met one, after all. ASK AGAIN LATER. NOT NOW!


	3. Manuel's Manual to Wizardry: an Introduction

Manuel tossed the 8-ball from one hand to the other in thought as he paced the balcony of his apartment. The ball seemed to like the airtime, and it did not take damage. Manuel discovered to his astonishment that it could float and hover before it hit the ground. He didn't have to hold it all the time if he didn't want to, and it could follow him if it had to. It could do a lot of other things, too: project its voice, roll itself along the ground, and produce holographic text and images. If not for its foolish-looking exterior, it occurred to Manuel that the 8-ball's form was eerily similar to that of a Star Wars holocron; however, Manuel was increasingly confident that the ball's maker was more "Jedi" than "Sith." Manuel was fascinated by how every possible subject, no matter how esoteric or mechanical, was commented upon with discussions of the ethics of this action or that action. Ethics, ethics, ethics. Ethics touched everything. Over and over, wherever he looked, he wrestled with the philosophy and the challenge of protecting life that 'grows and lives well in its own way.' He had discovered that his own Oath was a variation of another Oath more typical of one of his species—human; Earthling—among the many, many sentient species scattered across solar systems and galaxies, such as the Rirhait, Demisiv, Wellakhit, Delft, saurians, dogs, cats, raptors, and whales.... and that was just a taste of those wizards who lived or visited Earth recently.

It even had a language encoded that it called the Speech. As it painstakingly taught Manuel the rudiments of the language, symbol by symbol, piece by piece, it quizzed Manuel at every opportunity. The first thing it had done, aside from show Manuel his local directory of wizards, was insist that Manuel work out the mechanics of his name in the Speech. Only once Manuel had detailed all the material that went into his name, exhaustively, had it allowed him to practice an abbreviated "nickname" for use in spells. Speaking of spells: Manuel had yet to choose one to practice with.

After that, it had been maths. Manuel was very good at maths, but he could not say he loved them. But in the Speech - working with its graceful swirls and shortcuts - he was utterly entranced. There was a truth and an elegance to maths in the Speech that he struggled to find in school. There were more symbols and concepts to describe ideas and recursive patterns that, in English, were mostly described by choppy decimals. In the Speech, a fraction was almost always preferable. Besides, this math was far more practical, and he needed it: not to solve equations, per se, but to build them first. Precision was key. A spell with imbalanced equations would not work, or at least not as originally intended; an executed spell would find a way to demonstrate itself. A well-crafted, exemplary spell was a mathematical proof and persuasive essay in one. Manuel felt a little queasy about the persuasion bit. Why should the earth and its elements listen to him? How could he possibly appease them? But he felt more confidence when describing how something that was not currently possible _could be_ possible, with the right application of willingly supplied power—

It was gradually becoming dark, and Manuel retreated to his room, lost in thought.

His mother knocked on the door. "Manuel? I know I haven't had much attention to spare for you all day, but I brought you a plate. You must be very busy. Are you doing homework?"

Flustered, Manuel dropped the 8-ball to the bed and lunged to his feet. "Yes, Mamá, thank you. Oh, it smells good. No, the homework is done. I'm just... thinking a lot is all."

She looked at him seriously for a moment, then thumbed his forehead. "Not too hot, I think, but... Are you feeling well?"

"Yes. Just a little tired." Manuel smiled back at her.

She hummed. "Maybe you're growing. I'll get you some Vitamin C, if you want it. Get some rest, _chico_. You know adventure comes _hasta mañana_ , sooner than you know it, so you'd better get ahead of it. Food, a good night's sleep, some water? The works." She pinched his cheek, gently, handed him the plate, and left.

"Thanks, Mom." Manuel took the plate of beans, rice, meat, and fried banana, and scurried back to his bed with relief.

SHE'S RIGHT, YOU KNOW.

Manuel jumped and nearly dropped his plate. "She what?"

YOUR ORDEAL IS COMING. IT IS DECIDEDLY SO.

"What's an—ordeal, you said?"

IT'S A TEST. IF YOU PASS, YOU WILL BECOME A FULLY AUTHORIZED WIZARD.

"What do wizards need a test for?"

The 8-ball seemed to take a while to process that question. TO SOLVE A PROBLEM ONLY THEY CAN SOLVE. —THAT IS, YOU. SO THAT _YOU_ MAY SOLVE A PROBLEM THAT EXISTS SOMEWHERE IN THE UNIVERSE. SOMEWHERE ONLY YOU WOULD THINK TO GO... OR THE ONE WHO SENDS YOU.

Manuel blinked. "That's all?"

The 8-ball rattled a bit as the blue triangle clanked against the glass. MOST LIKELY.

"But.... Where would I take this test?" Manuel asked, anxious.

ANYWHERE.

Manuel's heart pounded. "Do you think I ought to pack a survival bag?" he blurted.

SIGNS POINT TO YES.

"Oh," Manuel said weakly. "For how long?"

AS SOON AS POSSIBLE.

"That's not what I asked."

IT'S WHAT YOU NEEDED TO HEAR.

"Wow, that was brutal. Thanks a lot."

NO PROBLEM.

"You wouldn't happen to have a handy-dandy list of things wizards on Ordeal are advised to pack, would you?"

AS IT HAPPENS, YES. AND YOU MAY RELY UPON IT.


End file.
